
Last week, I also had my first child—a healthy baby girl named Alisa. When we were discharged, the hospital sent us home with a baby box from a local charity. It came with a portable bassinet, baby clothes, diapers, formula samples, and other essentials for new parents.
I was excited because this charity helps low-income mothers in our area. Many women leave the hospital with nothing but their baby and a massive medical bill. This program provides safe sleep spaces and basic necessities.
So I made a post on Instagram showing off the baby box, explaining what the charity does, and encouraging other new moms to look into the program. I thought I was highlighting an amazing resource that could help families in need.
The post got engagement from friends asking about the charity. Several women commented that they wished they'd known about this program when they had their babies.
But then my stepmom Carol messaged me privately with an accusatory tone.
"You need to take down that post right now," she wrote. "You're being incredibly insensitive. Amanda saw it and she's been crying for hours."
I was confused. "What's wrong with sharing information about a charity that helps new mothers?"
"You're flaunting what you got while Amanda got nothing. She's dealing with stress from the baby's medical issues, and now she has to see you showing off free stuff."
Before I could respond, Amanda herself reached out, her message dripping with resentment.
"Wow, must be nice," she wrote. "I had my son and all the hospital sent me home with was some maxi pads and a bill for $15,000. But sure, go ahead and show off your free baby stuff while I'm dealing with a disabled child and medical debt."
I explained that the baby box was from a charity that helps all new mothers, regardless of their baby's health status. I offered to connect her with the organization.
But Amanda wasn't interested in solutions. She was interested in being angry.
"It's not about the stupid box," she replied. "It's about you posting happy new mom content when you know I'm struggling. It's unfair that I have to deal with a special needs baby while other moms get to talk about how awesome being a new parent is."
My stepmom started calling repeatedly, demanding I delete the post to "keep the peace." She said Amanda was "fragile" and that I needed to be more considerate.
But I refused to take down the post. This wasn't about showing off—it was about highlighting a resource that could help other families. The charity had specifically asked recipients to share their experiences on social media.
Amanda escalated by commenting directly on my Instagram post: "Must be nice to get free stuff when your baby is 'normal.' Some of us aren't so lucky."
The comment created huge family drama. Relatives started taking sides, with some saying I should have been more sensitive and others defending my right to share positive news.
Amanda then made her own post, subtly calling me out. She wrote about how "some people" don't understand special needs parents' struggles and how "tone-deaf" it is to celebrate normal parenting milestones when others are suffering.
The situation came to a head at a family dinner where Amanda confronted me directly.
"You could have posted about anything else," she said, voice shaking with anger. "But you chose to post about free baby stuff, knowing that I didn't get any of that. Knowing that my experience has been nothing but medical bills and doctor appointments."
I finally lost my patience. "Amanda, I'm sorry you're going through a difficult time, but I'm not responsible for managing your emotions. I shared information about a charity that helps new mothers."
"That's not the point!" she screamed. "The point is that you get to be a happy new mom with a healthy baby and free stuff, while I'm stuck with a disabled child and debt!"
The room went silent. Even Amanda seemed to realize she'd gone too far, essentially calling her own son a burden.
I kept the post up, and several women contacted the charity because of it. Amanda stopped speaking to me entirely.